


Ocean's Three

by rain_sleet_snow



Series: Whole New Vision [11]
Category: Primeval
Genre: Implied/Referenced Homophobia, M/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2009-12-16
Updated: 2009-12-16
Packaged: 2018-03-07 11:55:03
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 893
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/3173116
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/rain_sleet_snow/pseuds/rain_sleet_snow
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Stephen is accident-prone, Kit is a shameless manipulator, and the NHS doesn’t stand a chance.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Ocean's Three

**Author's Note:**

  * For [Luka](https://archiveofourown.org/users/Luka/gifts).



                “Family only,” the nurse said dismissively, without even looking up.

 

                Ryan took a deep breath, counted to ten, and reminded himself that he was officially not allowed to swear in front of Kit. He opened his mouth, about to produce a reasoned and thorough explanation of why he was Stephen’s family, evidence in the form of their adopted son and his wedding ring, and threats in the form of quotes from the relevant bits of legislation, when he suddenly felt a sharp tug on his trousers. Not unnaturally, he looked down.

 

                Kit was small for his age, although growing rapidly, and the kind of skinny that made Ditzy and Claire automatically give him seconds and thirds whenever he got within a mile of their kitchen. He also had large grey eyes, which were currently filled with deep sorrow and shining with tears; he was clinging close to Ryan, staring mournfully up at him, and his hand had crept up to his mouth as if he was about to start sucking his thumb. “Where’s Daddy?” he asked, sniffling piteously.

 

                Ryan started to entertain suspicions that Kit was a born con-man. “Just in there,” he said, playing along. “Look,” and he lifted Kit up so he could see Stephen in the ward.

 

                Kit’s lower lip wobbled alarmingly. “Is Daddy sick?” he demanded.

 

                Ryan could see the nurse frozen in place, and decided his son elevated ‘con-man’ into the realms of ‘fraudster who will probably be in the Torygraph in twenty years’ time having relieved some industrialist of several million quid’. “No, Daddy’s just had a bit of an accident.”

 

                “I want to see Daddy!” Kit cried, attracting stares from passers-by, who then transferred their attention and some fairly unpleasant looks to the nurse.

 

                “I’m afraid,” the nurse said, but didn’t get any further. Kit, sensing an official reprimand, forestalled it by bursting noisily into tears.

 

                “I want my _daddy_!”

 

                Ryan crouched down and murmured to him, casting a simultaneously reproachful and apologetic look at the nurse and then pasting a harassed parental expression onto his face. Kit ignored him totally in favour of crying pathetically and very loudly, with the occasional heart-wrenching sniffle and “I want my daddy” thrown in for good measure. “There now, Kit,” Ryan mumbled uselessly, and added under his breath, “We will discuss this later.”

 

                Kit didn’t do anything nearly so crass as flick him a cheeky grin, and was rewarded for his restraint a few moments later when a frazzled businesswoman with a small child in a plaster cast in tow marched over and hissed furiously at the nurse: “For pity’s sake, _let the boy see his father_! I can’t believe that in this day and age-“

 

                The nurse swelled with indignation. “I can’t allow just anyone in to see a patient in a delicate state!”

 

                “If he’s in a delicate state, all the more reason to let his partner and his son in to see him!”

 

                Kit scaled up the wailing. Ryan felt rather as if the situation had been taken out of his hands, and risked an approximation of a pleading glance up at the nurse, who turned puce for an entertaining minute before hissing “All _right_!” and waving a bad-tempered hand at Ryan. “Go on!”

 

                Ryan, not one to look a gift horse in the mouth, scooped Kit up and hurried into the ward, dropping Kit unceremoniously by Stephen’s bed with a muttered “Well _done_ ” before sitting down himself in the uncomfortable plastic chair. Stephen turned his head with an effort.

 

                “What... noise,” he said, blue eyes half-closed.

 

                Ryan gently brushed dark spikes of hair off his forehead. “Kit putting his fine Italian hand to use.”

 

                “What?” Stephen and Kit said at exactly the same time. Ryan rolled his eyes, and resolved to explain Machiavelli to Kit at the earliest opportunity.

 

                “He embarrassed the nurse into letting us in,” he translated.

 

                Stephen chuckled weakly. “Good kid.”

 

                “Kit,” Kit corrected.

 

                Stephen reached out to try to ruffle his hair. Kit moved close enough that he could.

 

                “You’re worse than Robbie for having accidents,” he observed.

 

                “Your nose is running,” Stephen retorted, in order to avoid the mortification of being compared to Robbie Finn, who combined his father’s lack of brain with his mother’s sense of adventure and was consequently on first-name terms with the staff at the local Minor Injuries Unit. Kit wiped his nose on his sleeve, causing both Ryan and Stephen to wince.

 

                “That nurse was horrible,” he remarked, and clambered onto Ryan’s lap so as to see Stephen better, catching him in several vital organs with knobbly knees and elbows as well as banging his head against Ryan’s chin. Ryan nursed his new bruises and made a mildly disapproving noise. “When can you come home?”

 

                “Probably tomorrow morning,” Stephen admitted. “Keep me in... for observation.”

 

                Kit looked unimpressed.

 

                “It’s just to make sure he’s all right,” Ryan pointed out. Kit turned his head and treated Ryan to a thoroughly sceptical look.

 

                Stephen grinned. “Did the nurse think you weren’t family again?”

 

                “Yeah,” Ryan sighed. “This bloody country...”

 

                “Swear box,” Kit said sanctimoniously. Ryan cuffed him gently.

 

                “Extenuating circumstances and you know it.”

 

                “What’s extenuating?”

 

                “Reasons for Lyle to blow things up and not get into trouble,” Ryan said.

 

                “Oh,” Kit said, and took a long moment to digest this new piece of information. “I’m hungry.”


End file.
